You're Not Alone
by FaithinBones
Summary: Saying good-bye because we have to is never easy. A sequel to "Castor and Pollux".
1. Chapter 1

I thought I would try to write a sequel to "Castor and Pollux". You do not have to read that story to read this one. The only information you need to know is Seeley Joseph Booth and Leroy Jethro Gibbs are second cousins (or to be technical, first cousins once removed). Hank Booth and Jackson Gibbs are identical twins. "Castor and Pollux" showed you how Booth and Gibbs reconciled some family differences and became friends.

A/N: this story is AU and takes place after The Nail in the Coffin and before The Recluse in the Recliner.

I don't own Bones or NCIS.

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Stepping up to the ATM machine located in an alcove in front of the National Capital Bank on Pennsylvania Avenue, Tony was relieved to be out of the rain even if it was temporary. The blue awning overhead prevented most of the rain from pounding on him for which he was grateful. In no hurry, the NCIS agent pulled his wallet out of his slacks pocket, retrieved his debit card and inserted it into the reader. After requesting sixty dollars from the automated banker, the machine thought about it and opened a small slot, presenting three crisp twenty dollar bills for his pleasure. Taking the money, he was waiting for his receipt to print when his body was assaulted by a blast of heat and broken bricks. Thrown back onto the sidewalk, Tony barely registered the rain soaking his body before he passed out.

Ooooooooooooo

As he arrived at the crime scene, Booth was aware of the controlled chaos playing out around him. After parking across the street from the bank, he hurried across the grassy median trying to dodge the trees planted in the center dripping water on his head and shoulders. Entering the street in front of the bank, he walked carefully, trying to avoid the broken bits of brick and wood strewn about. As he got closer, he heard Cam calling to Hodgins who was standing near the Jeffersonian's mobile lab, parked in the driveway leading into a parking lot next door.

Following the sound of her voice, he found the coroner and Brennan studying the charred remains of a car resting in the drive-thru lane next to the bank. The damage to the building next to the car was quite extensive. A hole gaped in the building where the drive-thru used to be. The damage extended to the ATM machine located just a couple of feet around the corner from the drive-thru.

Careful of his footing as he moved closer, Booth observed that the ceiling above the drive-thru had extensive damage and one of the columns across from where the drive-thru window used to be was also damaged. Pointing to the column and then the roof, Booth voiced his concern."Don't you think it would be wiser to have this area shored up before you mess around in here?"

Hodgins glanced up at the mess while he approached the charred car. "It should be safe enough. I looked it over and most of the damage is to the ceiling right above the car, the tellers area and one of the columns was damaged. Everything that was going to fall on the car already has. It should be okay for now. Everyone in the building was evacuated."

Slowly checking his notes, Booth read out what he'd written so far. "It was reported that the two bank clerks in the drive thru teller area were killed. The driver obviously was killed, one bank clerk and one customer were killed in the lobby of the bank with three injured customers there and four people were injured outside the bank."

Grimly, Cam looked at the agent. "The driver was alone in the car. We're trying to extract the body now. Once that's done, we'll have the car prepared to be taken to the Jeffersonian. They want us to work as fast as possible. A building engineer took a look at the damage and he isn't very happy with the damaged column contrary to what Dr. Hodgins says."

Booth nodded his head and pointed at the crispy corpse. "So Bones, cause of death was being blown up . . . right?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Brennan continued to study the body. "Since the body has been dismembered and is scattered throughout the car it makes inspection of the body very difficult."

Slightly irritated, Booth tapped a pen against a note card. "Come on Bones . . . bomb . . . body in bits, he was blown up."

Unable to prevent it, Cam rolled her eyes at his impatience. "I'd hazard a guess that that is what killed the victim, but we'll probably know for sure once we get the body to the lab and run some tests."

Aware the everyone hated to jump the gun, Booth had to accept that they wouldn't commit to cause of death now. Amused, he shook his head and made a few notes on his cards. His name being called from the front of the bank, Booth turned to see Agent Shaw standing in front of two NCIS agents out near the driveway entrance. Curious, he moved away from his team and back out into the gentle rain. "What can I do for you?"

Pointing at his chest, one of the agents introduced himself. "I don't know if you remember me, Agent Booth. I'm with NCIS, Agent Timothy McGee." Pointing to the agent standing next to him, McGee continued, " This is Agent Eleanor Bishop. We work for Agent Jethro Gibbs."

Well aware who he was, Booth glanced at Bishop and then back at Tim. "I remember who you are, Agent McGee. What can I do for you?"

A little nervous, McGee licked his lips. "NCIS wants jurisdiction. One of our agents was hurt in the blast and one of the fatalities inside of the bank was a Lance Corporal in the Marines."

"Not going to happen McGee." Booth slowly shook his head. "I can't let that happen. The car that carried the bomb is registered to the personal assistant of Congressman Winters. This is not a Navy case."

Confident he was right, McGee looked around and then back at Booth. "A marine and an NCIS agent makes it an NCIS case, Agent Booth. You're people need to step aside."

Booth pointed down the street. "Nope . . . I'm going to have to ask you and Agent Bishop to go back to your van and go home. The FBI has jurisdiction, it's our case."

The thought of backing down didn't settle with Bishop and she knew her Boss wasn't going to back down. With a slight grin, she pointed up the street. "Agent Gibbs will probably insist on jurisdiction, Sir."

Glancing back up the street, Booth saw his cousin rapidly approaching. "He can insist all he wants. This is an FBI case."

Silent, McGee and Bishop remained where they were. Booth, waiting for Gibbs to arrive, watched his partner crawl out of the car and attempt to wipe a piece of soot from her cheek, spreading it across her face and towards her ear. Amused, Booth watched as Cam pointed towards Brennan's face and watched as his wife tried to wipe off the soot only to make it worse.

"Booth, I'm claiming jurisdiction." Angry, Gibbs glared at the FBI Agent and pointed at the ATM machine. "One of my agents was hurt when the bomb went off. I have a dead marine in the bank. That makes this my case."

Amused, Booth shook his head. "I'll see your agent and Lance Corporal and raise you with one Congressional personal assistant and several bank employees. My case Jethro."

Frustrated, Gibbs complained fairly loudly. "Bullshit, my Agent is the high card, Booth. This is my case. Stand down . . . now!"

Annoyed, Booth shook his head once more. "This isn't a pissing contest, Jethro. Until I hear different, this is my case. NCIS is not needed." Waving to two agents standing near the drive-thru, Booth called out to them. "Please escort these fine NCIS agents to their van. They're leaving now."

As he watched the agents approach, Gibbs made a promise to his cousin. "This isn't over, Booth."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth smiled at his irate cousin. "Oh, I know." He watched his cousin and his agents escorted away, sighed and walked back over to where the contested car was. "Okay, we need to hurry as fast as we can without compromising evidence. We need to get the car and the body back to the Jeffersonian as fast as possible. NCIS is trying to claim jurisdiction."

Annoyed, Brennan pointed to the charred corpse. "This is clearly an FBI case."

He agreed with her one hundred percent. Booth glanced towards the front of the bank and then back. "Yeah, you know that and I know that, but Jethro doesn't. He's going to try to grab the case so if we have the body and the car at the Lab it will make it harder for him to do it."

Whistling, Cam waved over several FBI techs and gave instructions to have everything moved as quickly but as carefully as possible to the Jeffersonian.

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Does this sound interesting?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: this story is AU and takes place after Bones episodes, The Nail in the Coffin and before The Recluse in the Recliner.

I don't own Bones or NCIS.

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In the hospital room waiting patiently, Gibbs watched as Tony was examined by his physician. His left cheek displaying a deep bruise, a cut over his left eyebrow and the way the younger man held his left arm stiffly at his side told him that Tony was hurt, but not as badly as they had first suspected.

Pleased that the injuries weren't worse, Dr. Gray patted Tony's right shoulder and smiled. "Well, for someone caught in an explosion, you're a very lucky man. You have a concussion, lacerations on your forehead, left cheek, the left side of your body . . . mostly on your upper torso, a dislocated shoulder and two fractured fingers on you left hand and a severe bruise on your upper back. Really, all in all the damage could have been much more serious."

With a sheepish grin, Tony glanced at Gibbs. "Lucky me."

Relieved that Tony was going to be alright, Gibbs turned towards the doctor. "So he can go home now?"

Still concerned about Tony's injuries, the doctor turned to face Gibbs. "Yes, but I'd like him to take it easy for a day or so. He also needs to see his own doctor about the fractured fingers and the concussion. He is injured and those injuries are not to be dismissed."

Sliding off of the bed, Tony looked down at his gown. "Um . . . If someone will give me my clothes back that would be great."

Gibbs picked up Tony's garments from the side table and handed them over to his agent. "I'll take you home. Your car is still at the crime scene."

In pain, Tony grunted as he took the clothes from the older man. "Is my car alright?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Gibbs smiled. "I really don't know. The FBI took over the crime scene and they wouldn't let me stay."

Angry at that turn of events, Tony erupted. "The FBI? Someone tried to kill me . . . damn it, that's our case."

"Not according to Agent Booth." While Tony inspected and then threw his blood soaked shirt in the trash can, Gibbs explained. "A congressional aide is dead at the scene. Booth thinks that trumps the death of a Lance Corporal of the Marines and your involvement."

"Booth? Seeley Booth?" Zipping up his pants, Tony grabbed his blood splattered jacket and slipped it on.

Gibbs walked over to the door and opened it. "One and the same."

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When he arrived at Deputy Director Stark's office, Booth was waved into the inner sanctum. Once the door was open, Booth was not surprised when he saw his cousin sitting in the office across from the Deputy Director. His face a mask, Booth closed the door behind him and moved over to the other empty chair in front of his boss's desk and sat down. "You wanted to see me, Sir."

His hands clasped on the desk in front of him, Stark flashed a small smile. "The Director of NCIS contacted me and talked to me about the bombing at National Capital Bank. I know that you're working on that case and it most definitely is an FBI case but because a Lance Corporal of Marines was killed in the blast and an NCIS agent was hurt, he'd like NCIS be involved in the case. I don't have a problem with that so Gibbs and his team will be assisting you and your people on the case."

His face wooden, Booth nodded his head. "Yes, Sir."

Start realized that his head of Major Crimes was probably pissed. "If you don't want to be involved in the case directly, I can assign Agent Fornell to the case."

Slowly shaking his head, Booth gave the deputy director a feeble smile. "That won't be necessary, Sir. I've worked with Agent Gibbs before."

Relievd that Booth was going to be a team player, Stark leaned back on his chair. "Good." Turning towards Agent Gibbs, Stark studied the silver haired man. "Agent Gibbs, Agent Booth will be taking the lead since this an FBI case but you will be allowed access to the case. I'm sure we'd all like to wrap this case up as quickly as possible."

Standing, Gibbs turned and smiled at Booth. "I'm sure we will."

With no other choice but to cooperate, Booth stood up. "My people have the car at the Jeffersonian right now and they're going over it for evidence. We also have what's left of the body of Clent Gilbert, Congressman Winters' personal assistant at the Jeffersonian. Dr. Brennan is working on verifying that the body is Gilbert's and that he died in the blast."

Pleased that the case was progressing, Stark nodded his head. "Excellent. Let's get this taken care of as quickly as possible. Congressman Winters has called me twice already this morning."

"Yes Sir." Moving over to the door, Booth opened it and waited for Gibbs to leave the room. Following Gibbs, Booth closed the door behind him. Wary he glanced at Stark's secretary and spoked quietly to his cousin. "You're a pain in the ass, Jethro. A fucking pain in my ass."

Amused, Gibbs moved to the door leading out in to the hallway. "I love you too, Booth."

Ooooooooooooooo

Entering the Lab, Gibbs walked rapidly towards the platform as Booth followed behind him. After he arrived at the staircase, he frowned and glanced impatiently back at Booth. The power his, Booth took his time, arrived a few seconds later and slid his card through the reader. Holding it up, he waved it in the air. "You're just a visitor, Jethro."

A little annoyed, Gibbs ignored his cousin's jab and followed Booth up the staircase and onto the platform. Booth moved across the raised floor and stopped two feet from the table where the body parts were laid out. "Good news everyone . . . NCIS is helping us with our case."

Surprised, Cam looked up from the various body parts on the table laying before her. "Why?"

His hands on his hips, Booth wanted to make clear the idea wasn't his. "A Lance Corporal of Marines was killed in the blast and NCIS Special Agent DiNozzo was injured outside the bank, so Deputy Director Stark wants us to share our case."

Her gaze moving from part of a scapula, Brennan commented, "I hope Agent DiNozzo is alright."

Pleased to see Brennan, Gibbs assured her. "He is Temperance. He did sustain two broken fingers, a dislocated shoulder, a concussion and some cuts and bruises in the explosion."

Astonished, Hodgins stared at the NCIS Agent. "If you think that means he's alright then you have pretty tough standards about what constitutes an injury."

Shrugging his shoulders, Gibbs stared at the body on the table. "He's had worse done to him."

Glad he wasn't an agent, Hodgins resumed studying some heavily burnt wires and the contents of several containers sitting on the table before him.

Returning their attention back to the body parts, Brennan and Cam each picked up a piece of the bomber and studied it.

Now that the bad news had been given to his team, Booth was eager to move on. "Can you tell me for sure if Gilbert was the one who died in the bomb blast?"

Shifting her gaze towards Booth, Cam nodded her head. "Yes, we're sure of that. Dental records confirms it's him. We are running DNA tests, but that's just to make absolutely sure. Oh, we can also say with certainty that he was the only one in the car too."

"Any idea what was used to blow up the car?" Fascinated, Gibbs watched Brennan slowly move her gloved index finger along the piece of bone she was holding. "Can you tell if it was something Gilbert did or not?"

Dropping some charred wires, Hodgins moved over to his PC and brought up several pictures and pointed to them as he showed them in a slow slideshow to Booth and Gibbs. "It looks like the trunk was packed with C4 plus boxes of nails, bolts, screws and for some reason staples. It looks like the switch for the bomb was controlled by the driver."

Air slowly blowing through his pursed lips, Booth shook his head in disgust. "So he wasn't interested in just damaging the building. Gilbert wanted to achieve maximum damage to people as well as the building. We need to find out how a congressional assistant had access to C4. Something seems hinky about this whole thing."

Stepping closer to the table, Booth studied the shredded corpse. "Was Angela able to access the video of the drive-thru?"

"Yeah, it arrived an hour ago." His gaze moving towards the staircase, Hodgins noticed one the FBI techs arrive with a package he'd been waiting for. "She said the cameras were destroyed, but the recorders were far enough away from the blast that she shouldn't have any trouble with the video."

Glad to hear about that good bit of news, Booth turned and walked over to the staircase. "Okay, I need to see that as soon as possible."

Following his cousin down the stairs, Gibbs trailed him down the hallway to Angela's office. "How's Hank doing?"

His steps slowing, Booth answered his cousin. "He's doing okay. He was complaining about pains in his joints last week, but besides that he's doing okay. How's your Dad doing?"

A sour grin on his face, Gibbs patted Booth on the shoulder. "Cantankerous as ever."

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Reviews would be wonderful, thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This is a reminder that this story is rated T for violence.

Thank you for your kind reviews. I know most of you aren't fans of crossovers, but I had a few requests for this sequel and I thought I'd put it off long enough.

I don't own Bones or NCIS.

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Entering Angela's office, Booth and Gibbs found the computer specialist/artist in the back room of her office where her Angelatron was located.

Not sure if she was ready for him, Booth stopped just inside the inner office. "Angela, hey, I was wondering if you've had a chance to look at the video footage from the bank recordings yet?"

Surprised to see that Booth wasn't alone, Angela looked Gibbs up and down and then stood up. "Nice to meet you again, Agent Gibbs." Picking up her control pad, she stood to face the monitor. " Yes, I sure did. I've looked at the recordings from the lobby, the ATM machine and the recordings of the drive-thru. Which would you like to look at first?"

Glad that Angela was on his team, Booth stood in front of the large monitor, glanced at his cousin and then back at the monitor. "How about let's look at the lobby first, the ATM second and the drive-thru last."

Angela brought up the first recording and pointed at it with the control in her hand. "This was filmed from inside the bank lobby from the front of the building facing the teller's area. We're lucky because there is an audio recording not just a video. The audio is recorded in the teller area."

Bracing himself for what was to come, Booth slowly nodded his head. "Good." Watching the recording, they watched Lance Corporal Mark Best move from the front of the waiting line over to the teller as a customer left the teller area and walked towards the front entrance. They observed the Marine hand over a bank book and the teller take it in her hand. Suddenly the back wall exploded in to the room. The two tellers sitting on stools in front of the drive-thru window behind the teller facing the lobby, took the brunt of the explosion and were thrown from the area like rag dolls towards the lobby area. Flying brick and thick shards of glass flew into the lobby striking the teller in the lobby area in the back of the head, back and shoulders while the Lance Corporal was struck in the face. The teller facing the lobby was thrown forwards, the back of her head smashed in while the Marine was thrown backward, his face crushed. The customers standing further away were hit by the blast of flying brick and glass shards, all falling to the floor, all of them injured."

Impassive, Gibbs watched the destruction rain on the people in the lobby and the consequences of the barrage of lethal projectiles.

Grimly, Booth watched the destruction of the bank trying to keep an eye on the drive-thru area. "So, one of the tellers asked Gilbert how she could help him, and we can hear the man say that he was there to send a message to corporate America and then the bomb went off. This makes absolutely no sense. The guy was a congressional aide."

She didn't have an answer for him. Angela glanced at Booth and Gibbs and then back at her controller. "Okay now the ATM."

Stoically Gibbs watched Tony DiNozzo insert a card in the ATM. Next they all watched as he glanced around at the rain slicked street and then back at the ATM. In grim anticipation, they watched him reach out, take his money from the slot and count it then reach towards the receipt slot. The next few seconds showed them pieces of wood and brick shoot out towards the hapless agent forcefully sending him backward out onto the rain soaked sidewalk. The video continued for a few seconds more and then died.

Gravely, Angela pointed at the screen. "The camera was in the ATM so it was guarded. The blast tore brick and wood from the building from the left and above the machine outward towards the sidewalk. The brick and wood were like missiles. They hit Agent DiNozzo and three people walking across the driveway. Two of the people are in serious condition and one is critical. Agent DiNozzo was partially protected by the ATM which is a very large piece of heavy equipment. It barely budged in the attack and that's what kept him from being killed."

His gaze now on Gibbs' emotionless face, Booth knew his cousin liked Tony and he felt sorry that his cousin's agent had been hurt. Booth pursed his lips and then turned back to Angela. "Okay, if we can see the drive-thru recording that would be great."

The room very tense now, Angela tapped a few keys. "There are several cameras for the drive-thru area. One camera is aimed at each drive-thru lane. It allows the teller to talk to the customer. There are cameras trained on the tellers in the bank so the teller can talk and see the customer and vice versa. There is also a camera trained from the front of the drive thru towards the two drive-thru lanes." Tapping a few more keys, Angela stared at the screen. "Okay first the view of the teller talking to Clent Gilbert."

The video started, showing a young woman of about 24 years of age. After cheerfully asking Gilbert how she could help him, they watched as her face became puzzled at Gilbert's statement. Within seconds the blast occurred and they all watched as the clerk tried to throw up her arm over her face, opening her mouth as if to scream as the blast of glass shards and hardware from the bomb struck her. Contrary to what they expected, neither she nor the other clerk uttered a sound. The blast happening so suddenly, they were dead within seconds of the blast striking them.

A little sick, Angela turned towards her computer monitor and closed her eyes. Booth aware that his friend was in distress, moved closer to Angela and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Would you like to take a break?"

Angela shook her head, took an embracing breath and turned towards Booth. "No, that's alright. This is the third time I've seen it and I just have a hard time watching those two young ladies killed. One minute they were alive and the next minute they were dead . . . It's just so sudden. They didn't even have a chance to say anything."

"That's a good thing, Angela." Letting his hand drop, Booth tried to help his friend. "At least they died almost instantly. They didn't suffer too long."

Exhaling deeply, Angela turned back towards the big monitor. Clearing her throat, she continued, "This next one shows the driver of the car. I've watched it twice and I really don't understand what's going on. Just watch and you'll understand what I mean."

They all watched Clent Gilbert as he rolled down his car window and waited for the teller to ask how she could help him. He then closed his eyes and then opened them, tears slid down his cheeks as he managed to speak in a terrified voice. "This is a message . . . a message to corporate America. You can't keep stealing people's homes from them and not expect them to fight back." Abruptly the tears poured from his now closed his eyes and they watched the car explode around the man, tearing him apart before the video suddenly ended.

Puzzled, Gibbs stared at the blank screen. "He was terrified. The man was crying."

With a sick feeling, Booth thought he knew what had happened. "Shit, I don't think the bomb was his idea at all."

In agreement, Gibbs nodded his head. "I don't think it was either."

Unnerved by the idea, Angela swallowed. "Why . . . why would he blow himself up if it wasn't his idea, that's crazy. He was almost paralyzed with fear. His voice was shaking so badly, it's almost impossible to understand what he was saying. His teeth were chattering he was so afraid."

Staring at the wall over Angela's shoulder, Booth knew that this was going to be very bad. "Someone probably forced him to do it. We need to track down Gilbert's movements for the last few days to see what caused this. Somehow, someone forced the man to do this and whatever they used as an incentive must have been pretty damn powerful because Gilbert was scared to death and he went ahead and did it anyway."

Acknowledging Booth, Gibbs responded, "We also need to check into home owners that the bank has foreclosed on. It sounds like someone lost their house and they wanted revenge."

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Reviews would be great. Thank you.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you for your interest in my story. A little angst in this chapter, well okay, a lot of angst in this chapter.

I don't own Bones or NCIS.

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Bored, Tony sat in Gibb's living room and watched as his boss entered the house and walked past him into the kitchen. Turning off the TV, Tony followed Gibbs into the other room and leaned against the doorway. "I'm going to call a cab and go home. I don't really need to be here, I'm fine."

As he pulled steaks, zucchini and summer squash from the fridge, looked at Tony and then placed the steaks on a platter. "Up to you, but at least wait until you've eaten dinner." Seeing the younger man nod his head in agreement, Gibbs picked up the zucchini and squash and one by one, sliced them thinly, place them on some foil squares, drizzled them with olive oil and seasoning and sealed the foil into packets. After he had enough packets made, he picked up the platter of steaks and packets of vegetables, left the kitchen and walked outside onto his deck where his BBQ grill was waiting.

Tony walked out onto the deck, sat down on a lawn chair and watched Gibbs prepare his grill. "I'm going back to work tomorrow. If I have to watch one more hour of daytime TV I may kill someone and you really wanted to handle the paper work on that one."

Placing the foil packets on the grill, Gibbs closed the lid and sat down on the lawn chair near the door. "It looks like the bomber may not have been in control of the situation after all. He may have been forced to do what he did."

Interested, Tony leaned forward on his chair. "What did ya find out?"

His attention on a cat, Gibbs watched it slink across his back yard. "Angela Montenegro, over at the Jeffersonian, salvaged the footage from the cameras at National Capital Bank and one of the cameras had a clear shot of the driver of the car sitting in the drive-thru as well as what he said." Rubbing his forehead, Gibbs sighed. "The guy was terrified. He was actually crying before he said anything to the teller. He may have been forced to set off the bomb."

Curious, the younger agent found that news very disturbing. "What does Agent Booth say about it?"

His gaze now turned towards Tony, Gibbs placed his hands flat on his thighs. "He agrees. He has Angela looking into foreclosed home owners. The last words the bomber said was 'You can't keep stealing people's homes from them and not expect them to fight back.' That tells me that the person behind this was probably someone who lost his home or knows someone who lost his home . . . I have McGee helping Ms. Montenegro with her search. We need answers and we need them fast. We don't know if National Capital Bank was the sole target or if there are more bombings planned in the future."

Tony rubbed his eyes and leaned back on his chair. "So . . . someone killed five people and hurt a bunch more over a damn house? I was almost killed because someone was pissed at a bank?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Gibbs knew that Tony was very angry. "Yep, looks like it. It's the best motive we have right now. The bomber was a man names Clent Gilbert. He was a personal aide of Congressman Wesley Winters. We're checking into Clent Gilbert's background to see if anything else turns up, but it looks like revenge against the bank may have been the motive. It's possible the congressman's aide was used in the attack because the congressman is on the House Committee for Financial Services."

Disgusted, Tony shook his head. "Well, if it wasn't Gilbert then whoever is behind this wanted to make a pretty loud statement."

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Arriving at the hospital, Booth rushed to the sign in desk. On the verge of being frantic, Booth had to control himself from shaking the woman behind the desk. "I'm here about Hank Booth. Can you tell me where he is?"

Deliberatley checking her computer, Alice Snow turned her gaze upon Booth. "He was brought in thirty minutes ago. If you'll have a seat in the waiting area, I'll have someone come out and bring you to him as soon as possible."

Barely acknowleding her, Booth quickly strode into the room and over towards some empty seats. Refusing to sit down, he stood staring at the door leading to the rooms in the back. Nervously pulling his phone from his jacket pocket, Booth made a call and waited for his wife to answer.

_"Brennan."_

"Bones, I'm at George Washington. They just rushed Pops in about thirty minutes ago."

_"I'm on my way, Booth. Do you know why he was brought there?"_

Afraid for his grandfather, Booth continued to stare at the door. "Yeah, it looks like he had a stroke."

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Nurse Tisha Green stepped into the waiting area, looked around and then called out. "Hank Booth's family."

Desperate to see his grandfather, Booth hurried over to where the nurse stood. "I'm Seeley Booth, Hank Booth's grandson."

Nodding her head, Tisha smiled and opened the door. "Follow me."

After both of them stepped through the doorway, she waited for the door to close behind them. "Mr. Booth was brought in about an hour ago. He was having trouble speaking and seemed quite disoriented for awhile. He's having trouble seeing out of his right eye and I don't want to upset you, but it appears that he's partially paralyzed at this time. We did a CT scan and found bleeding in the brain. You're his medical proxy, is that correct?"

Dreading what he was hearing, Booth nodded his head numbly.

Aware that Booth was is distress, Nurse Green tried to be gentle, but clear in her next statement. "Mr. Booth needs a medical procedure done as soon as possible. We need to perform an Arteriovenous Malformation Repair. That means that Mr. Booth has a tangle of faulty arteries and veins that the surgeon would like to remove to prevent further bleeding in the brain. Do you understand?"

Not really sure what she was talking about, Booth realized that it sounded very serious and whatever it was and it needed to be done quickly. He knew that Brennan would explain it to him when she arrived. "Can I see him before the surgery?"

"Yes, of course." Handing Booth the clipboard with the form, she urged him to read it and sign it. "Please sign this now. You can see him for a minute or two then we need to prep him for surgery."

With a trembling hand, Booth took the clipboard, signed the form, handed it back to the nurse and then walked with the nurse over to the cubicle and pulled back the cloth wall. Taking a deep breath, he entered the room. "Hey, Pops."

The frightened man turned his head slowly to stare at his grandson. Speaking with a slur, Hank struggled to speak. "Seeley."

Rushing over to the bed, Booth leaned over and grabbed his grandfather's hand. "Hey, Pops, the doctors know what's wrong with you and they have a plan to fix you right up? Do you understand?"

Hank was afraid for himself, but also for his boy. Seeley had always needed him and he was afraid to leave him behind. "I . . . love you . . . boy."

Trying to reign in his emotions, Booth swallowed and smiled at his beloved grandfather. "I love you too, Pops."

Nurse Green, stepped into the room and cleared her throat. "Mr. Booth."

Leaning over and kissing his grandfather's forehead, Booth smiled at the worried man. "You'll be good as new, Pops, you'll see . . . good as new."

Booth stepped back to allow two surgical nurses access to the bed. Afraid to say anything else, he watched them push the bed out of the room. Two tears track down his face, he wiped them off of his cheeks and walked past the nurse. Spotting a bathroom near the exit into the waiting area, he ducked into the room, locked the door and started to cry.

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Reviews would be great. Thank you.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you for your reviews and favorites. It let's me know that you are reading this story.

I don't own Bones or NCIS. That's probably a good thing.

Oooooooooooooooo

While he sat in the waiting room outside the surgical ward, Booth felt like he was drowning in a pool of sadness when Brennan came hurrying into the room. Spying Booth leaning forward on his chair, his hands tightly clasped together and almost touching his mouth, Brennan knew that her husband was praying to the God he loved and believed in.

As quickly as she could, she strode across the room and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Booth."

Standing, Booth placed his arms around her and closed his eyes. "He's in surgery . . . something about tangled veins or something. I had to give permission for them to operate. I . . . I didn't know what they were talking about but . . . but they said they had to do it, Bones. I . . . I hope I did the right thing."

Slowly rubbing his back, Brennan felt on the verge of tears for her husband and friend. "Booth, I'm certain you did the right thing."

Booth was trapped in a nightmare and he was afraid. Releasing her, he stared at her forlornly. "He was fine when I saw him last Sunday. He was joking about . . . joking about walking a marathon next week."

She saw the look of fear in his face and she knew that he was worried that Hank would die. Kissing him, Brennan grabbed his hand and sat down. "I'm here, Booth. You aren't alone."

His throat very dry, Booth swallowed past the lump that had lodged in his throat, gripped her hand and sat down next to her. "I love him so much. He and Grams were the only ones I could count on when I was a kid. He and Grams were the only ones who cared that I was even alive."

Brennan reached out and placed her hand on the side of his face. "We'll get through this, Booth . . . together."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

No sound from within the house, McGee stared at the door, frowned and knocked again.

Bishop, peering into the window next to the door, tried to see if there was anyone there. "It doesn't look like anyone's home."

Pointing at the car in the driveway, McGee informed her, "That car belongs to Clent Gilbert's wife. Mae Gilbert hasn't been to work for two days. If she isn't here then why is her car here?"

Not sure, Bishop stepped off the porch and walked around the house. Following her off of the porch, McGee decided to walk around the right side of the house while Bishop walked around the left side. Peering into each window as he made his way around the house, he finally arrived at the back door. Not seeing Bishop, he did notice the back door had been forced open.

Quickly drawing his gun, McGee silently ascended the back steps and cautiously entered the house. Careful to keep his gun before him, he walked through the kitchen and into the living room.

Silently, Bishop walked out in to the hallway from the master bedroom and into the living room. "She isn't here. The bed is unmade and some of the furniture is turned over in the bedroom."

Holstering his gun, McGee walked down the hallway and looked in to the master bedroom. Lamps overturned, the nightstand knocked over, bed unmade and spots of blood on the carpet was all he needed to see. Calling Gibbs, McGee checked the bathroom and the bedroom across the hallway.

"_Gibbs."_

"Hey, Boss. We checked out Clent Gilbert's house and we found the back door forced open. No one is here but it's obvious that there was a fight in the bedroom. There's some blood on the carpet too."

"_Alright, we'll put a BOLO out for Mae Gilbert. I'll have Abby get out there as soon as she can."_

"Got it Boss, we'll sit tight until she gets here."

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

As Cam entered Angela's office, she noticed the artist staring at the far wall, lost in thought.

"Angela, have you had a chance to break down the information National Capital Bank sent you? Booth is waiting for that list of owners of foreclosed houses."

As if in a fog, Angela turned her head and cleared her throat. "What? . . . Uh, yeah, I'm running an algorithm that will match home owners who've lost their house due to foreclosure with National Capital Bank in the last five years with a list of constituents that Congressman Winters office sent over. His office manager keeps a list of all constituents who contact the Congressman's office. She maintains an Excel file and breaks down the contact by name, address, subject matter, frequency of contact, type of correspondence with the constituent and whether the Congressman's office has been able to help the constituent. It's pretty complex and really well thought out. I really admire the manager. She really tries to make sure that everyone that contacts the office is helped either by the Congressman or one of his staff. A lot of times people ask for things that are out of the Congressman's control, but the office manager makes sure that the person contacting their office is given a reason why they can't be helped. She says Congressman Winters believes in keeping in touch with the voters."

Cam nodded her head. "How long do you think it will take before you know if there is a connection . . ."

Her screen flashing, Angela held up her hand. "Looks like I have something." Tapping some keys on her keyboard, she turned towards Cam. "Rhys Flynn. His house was foreclosed on four years ago and he's been barraging the Congressman's office ever since with letters and phone calls. I'll contact Congressman Winters' office and see if the office manager still has the correspondence that Flynn sent. If she does, I'll have her send me copies and then I'll call Booth's office and let one of his agents know. I'll also call Agent Gibbs and let him know since he may have to finish up the case without Booth."

Puzzled, Cam shook her head. "Why would Gibbs have to finish up the case without Booth?"

Surprised, Angela placed her hand over her mouth. "Oh . . . oh you don't know. I thought you knew."

Slowly shaking her head. Cam felt a chill run down her spine. "Know what? What's happened?"

Sighing heavily, Angela informed her boss, "Booth's grandfather is in the hospital. He's in critical condition. Brennan says that Hank is still in surgery. I talked to her about fifteen minutes ago. I guess the only reason why I know is because I was in Brennan's office when Booth called her. She took off as soon as she ended the call."

A little faint, Cam closed her eyes momentarily and tried to control her sudden urge to cry. "Oh God. This is going to kill Booth."

Oooooooooooooo

Contacting Gibbs, Angela greeted the man, "Hi, this is Angela Montenegro from the Jeffersonian."

"_What can I do for you, Ms. Montenegro?"_

"I think I've pinpointed a suspect for you in the bombing case at National Capital Bank. I ran an algorithm that matched names of people who lost their homes in foreclosure at the bank with people who've contacted Congressman Winter's office in the last four years. Once I had a name, I contacted the Congressman's office and had the man's correspondence sent over and I've just looked at all of it. I've scanned them and I'm going to email you copies in an attachment in a few minutes."

Since she wasn't his employeed, Gibbs tried to be patient. "_Do you have a name?"_

It was plain that he was impatient, so Angela answered quickly. "Rhys Flynn."

"_Thank you. Can I get you to send the email to Agent McGee?"_

Preparing her email, Angela added McGee's name. "I'll CC him. I'm sending the file now."

After a minute crawled by, Gibbs noticed it pop into his inbox. "_Thanks I got it. I'll look it over and call Booth."_

Grimly, Angela realized that the NCIS Agent didn't know about Hank. "Booth is at the hospital right now. His grandfather is in critical condition . . . Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot, Hank is your uncle. He's as George Washington University hospital."

Concerned, the agent asked,"_Do you know what's wrong with him?"_

Rubbing her eyes, Angela tried to keep from crying. "Yes, he had a stroke . . . They had to operate on him. That's all I know though."

Gibbs knew her news was bad. Rubbing his forehead, Gibbs thought about his next move. "_Thanks."_

Turning towards DiNozzo, Gibbs placed his phone in his jacket pocket. "I need to go over to George Washington. Angela thinks she's narrowed down our list of suspects to some guy named Rhys Flynn. She sent McGee some info on Rhys Flynn including some letters to Congressman Winters. Look it over then you and McGee track him down and bring him in. I want him brought in before he decides to blow up another bank . . . Contact me when you have him here."

Ooooooooooooooooo

Reviews would be great. Thank you.


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you for reading and reviewing this story. I know some of you don't watch NCIS so I appreciate your interest in my story.

I don't own Bones or NCIS.

Oooooooooooooooo

Striding into the hospital lobby, Gibbs found the bank of elevators and rode up to the surgical ward. After entering the ward, he found the waiting room and stood in the doorway looking for his cousin. Spying Booth and Brennan towards the back of the room, he walked quietly over to where they were sitting and noticed how pale his cousin was. "I came as soon as I heard."

Startled from his reverie, Booth looked up and shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry . . . I guess I should have called you."

Gibbs shook his head and sat down next to Booth. "It's alright. Angela told me . . . Have you heard anything?"

Afraid for his grandfather, Booth glanced at the doorway and shook his head. "No, he's been in surgery for awhile. I . . . We just have to wait . . . I called Jared, but he's up in Baltimore with his wife. They're on the way now."

Glancing at Brennan and then back at Booth, the older man patted Booth's knee. "Hanks tough." Settling back on his chair, Gibbs took out his phone, changed his mind and put it back in his jacket pocket.

Oooooooooooooooooo

Parked down the street from Rhys Flynn's rented home, DiNozzo and McGee exited McGee's car and stared at the house and the surrounding homes. The street was quiet with no one in sight. Glancing at the the car in the driveway, DiNozzo wondered where everyone was. "It's pretty quiet around here."

Glancing at the other agent, McGee cleared his throat. "So how do you want to play this?"

After he pulled his gun from his holster, DiNozzo checked it. "Carefully. If he has Mae Gilbert then we need to make sure we grab him before he can do anything to her."

Pursing his lips, McGee studied the small yard. "I don't see him having her here. The houses are too close together and he'd be taking a huge risk if Mae screamed and alerted the neighbors."

"You go around the back. I'll give you five minutes to get there. I'll take the front door." His gaze on the front of the house, DiNozzo decided McGee was probably right. "It's a small house . . . maybe two bedrooms or one large one. I don't think he has her here either."

DiNozzo stood in the drive and watched McGee walk up the driveway and around to the back of the house. Still in pain, DiNozzo rubbed his eyes and rolled his neck. After four minutes had passed he walked up the driveway, over to the front step and reached up to knock on the front door. Stepping back, he held his drawn gun down, behind his thigh and waited.

After waiting for a couple of minutes, DiNozzo knocked on the door again. After another minute had passed, he walked over to the front window and looked inside. Surprised he saw a man sitting on a recliner in the living room. "Rhys Flynn . . . I'm with NCIS. I need to talk to you."

Pointing towards the door, Rhys smiled and called out to the agent. "It's unlocked . . . come in."

Cautious, DiNozzo ascended the two steps, opened the door and with his gun pointed towards their suspect he entered the small house. Standing in the open doorway, the agent scanned the small room and then turned his attention back to the sitting man. "Rhys Flynn, I need to talk to you about the National Capital Bank."

Sad, the seated man nodded his head. "Are you here to talk to me about how they stole my house from me and how my wife and I divorced because of it? She just walked away from me and took my kid with her. Do you think that's right? Do you think it's okay for a bank to steal what belongs to you?"

Holding his weapon on Flynn, the agent noticed McGee step into the living room from the kitchen. "Sir, we'd like you to come with us down to NCIS headquarters. We have a few questions we'd like to ask you."

Slowly shaking his head, Flynn felt a tear fall down his cheek. "No, I don't think so. I knew the cops would show up sooner or later and I prepared for it. I don't know what NCIS is, but I'm assuming you're cops, right?"

Nodding his head, DiNozzo glanced at McGee and then back at their suspect. "Sir, you need to get up slowly with your hands up where we can see them. If you have a gun and plan to use it then don't. You have two guns trained on you and it just won't turn out very well."

Amused, Flynn moved his hands up, his right hand holding a small black box. His thumb hovering over a switch in the middle of the box. "Oh, I don't have a gun. I don't need one." Pointing at the floor, Flynn sighed. "You're going to need that to find, Mrs. Gilbert. I hated to involve her in this, but it was the only way I could make her husband deliver my message to the bank. Me delivering it wouldn't have meant a God damn thing. I promised him that I wouldn't kill her and I didn't. Use the phone to find her, it won't be hard to do."

Slowly, DiNozzo picked up the cell phone a few inches from his foot and placed it in his jacket pocket. Trying to diffuse the situation, the Senior Agent tried to reason with the sitting man. "Sir, you don't have to do this. You don't have to die. You don't have to make this worse than it already is."

Sneering, Flynn shook his head. "It's already worse than it can be. I wanted to make a statement. I wanted to tell the world what that bank did to me. I wanted the world to see what they did, but it's all a joke on me. My story . . . my statement was at the top of the news for one news cycle. No one cares. No one wants to hear my story. Well, I made my statement and I'm ready to move on with my final statement."

Dreading what was coming, DiNozzo raised his left hand, pointed at McGee and motioned for him to leave the room. Once that was done, he turned his attention back to Flynn. "Look, don't you think you could make a bigger statement if you were alive? Think about it, if you go to trial then your story will be in the news for weeks or maybe months. You blow yourself up and they might mention you tonight and then that's it. Just think about that for a minute. The bank will be on trial with you, isn't that what you want? Why go through this and just blow yourself up?"

Nervously, Flynn stared at the black box in his hand and bit his lower lip. Finally looking up at Tony, the murderer asked the agent a question. "How do I know you won't shoot me when I put the box down?"

Shaking his head, DiNozzo answered truthfully. "Because I won't have a reason to kill you if you put the box down. I want to bring you in alive. I need to know what you did to Mae Gilbert. You're more valuable to me alive than dead."

"Good answer." Lowering the box, Flynn placed it on the floor and then placed his hands on his thighs. "Of course, placing the box down isn't going to help anything. I'm sitting on a pressure plate." Standing abruptly, Flynn started to laugh.

McGee listening to the conversation a few feet away from the kitchen doorway, turned to run out of the back doorway. DiNozzo turned at that moment and threw himself out into the front yard, over the font steps.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Her hand on Booth's arm, Brennan stared at the entrance to the waiting room and noticed the surgeon enter the room in pale green scrubs. Standing, she moved her hand to Booth's shoulder. Aware that Brennan had moved, Booth looked up from his prayers, quickly stood up and waited for the doctor to walk across the room. Gibbs, seeing the solemn look on the approaching man's face, stayed in his chair.

"Hank Booth's family?" The surgeon walked slowly across the room and stopped in front of Booth.

Afraid of what was about to happen, Booth licked his lips. "Yeah, I'm Hank Booth's grandson."

Speaking quietly, Dr. Yu clasped his hands in front of him. "I'm sorry. We did all we could. Mr. Booth died in the recovery room. He went into respiratory failure, probably due to his age, the stress of the surgery and the anesthetic used during surgery."

Stunned, Booth stared in disbelief at the surgeon. Gibbs stood up and placed his hand on Booth's shoulder, uncertain if he was giving support or seeking it.

Brennan aware that her husband was in extreme distress, turned and placed her arms around his chest/ "You aren't alone, Booth. You aren't alone."

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Reviews would be wonderful. Thank you


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you for supporting my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones or NCIS.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

The explosion ripped through the living room and into the kitchen causing Agent McGee to feel the heat hit his body as he dove out of the back doorway. Aware that his body was being peppered by debris, he scrambled to his feet as soon as he hit the ground and ran a few feet into the backyard before collapsing. Adrenalin rampaging through his body, he felt his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to catch his breath. Groaning, he sat up, retrieved his phone from his pocket and called 911.

After reporting the explosion and house fire, he made it to his knees and then finally to his feet. His ears ringing, he groaned as he staggered around the side of the now burning house to the front yard. Almost stumbling into DiNozzo, he knelt down beside the prone man and placed his hand on his friend's neck, feeling for a pulse. "Tony, are you alright?"

Softly moaning, DiNozzo placed his elbows under his chest and raised up to stare at the house. "That bastard . . . that no good son-of-a-bitch."

"Yeah, I know." Patting the angry man's shoulders, McGee worried that his partner might be hurt. "Can you get up? You're too close to the house, it's on fire. I called 911."

Unable to stop, DiNozzo continued to curse as his slowly stood up and with McGee's help, staggered away from the house and over towards McGee's car. Once they were at the car, McGee opened the door and helped his companion sit on the passenger seat of the car.

The air turning a colorful shade of blue from the inventive curse words streaming out of his mouth, DiNozzo finally stopped and touched his left elbow and shoulder. "Damn it. If the blast hadn't killed that stupid bastard then I'd do it right now . . . . Shit! I think I hurt my shoulder again."

Some of the neighbors, curious about what was going on, stood in their yards to watch the house across the street burn. Three concerned residents called 911 to report the fire and the two suspicious men that were clearly hurt and just a few yards from the driveway of the damaged house.

Moving his gaze from the burning building to McGee, Tony reached up and grabbed the other agents face. "Are you alright, McProbie?"

Batting the hand from his face, McGee growled at his friend. "No, I'm not alright. I was almost blown up. I'm not alright and neither are you."

"You have all your important parts, Tim, so don't worry about it." Rubbing the back of his head, DiNozzo felt a tacky substance and moved his fingers so he could look at them. Angry at the sight of his bloody fingers, he shook his head. "Of course, I don't know if we'll get to keep them once Gibbs hears that our suspect blew himself up before he told us where Mae Gilbert is."

Ooooooooooooooooo

Silently sitting in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee, Gibbs watched as Brennan tried to feed her daughter. The child, sensing the sadness emanating from her parents and her distant cousin was upset and refusing to eat.

"Please Christine, you need to eat."

Shaking her head, the toddler started to cry. Holding her hands out towards her mother, the little girl begged. "Daddy, Mommy."

Brennan pulled the child from her bumper seat and into her arms. "Your Daddy doesn't feel well, Christine. We need to let him rest."

Interrupting her, Gibbs smiled at his cousin-in-law. "Would you like me to hold her for a little bit?"

Surprised and grateful for a diversion, Brennan asked her daughter, "Would you like to visit your Uncle Jethro?"

Sniffing, the child nodded her head and stuck her finger in her mouth.

Gibbs took the child from Brennan and smiled at Christine. "Hey, how would you like a hotdog? I know where your Daddy hides them in the fridge."

Puzzled, Brennan shook her head. "We don't have any hotdogs."

Chuckling, Gibbs pointed at the bottom of the refrigerator. "He hides them behind his beer. Whenever he can't get Christine to eat and you aren't here, he makes her a hotdog."

Not surprised at all, Brennan opened the fridge, rummaged around until she found a half a package of hotdogs. Pulling one out of the package, she carried it over to the microwave, nuked it for a minute and then cut a slice in the weiner and allowed it to cool. Once it was at a cooler temperature, she inserted the hotdog on a bun that her husband usually used for smoked sausage and peppers and gave it to her child.

"We won't tell Booth I know about his hotdogs." Sitting down on the chair next to Gibbs, she watched her daughter slowly eat her sandwich.

"I tried to call Dad about Hank but his phone was busy." Shifting the child on his lap, Gibbs watched her eat. "I really hate making that call. It's only been a year since they finally buried the hatchet. Dad is going to take this pretty hard."

Glad that her child was content with her meal, Brennan stood up. "Would you mind watching her while I go and check on Booth?"

Shaking his head, Gibbs glanced at Brennan. "No of course not. Take your time . . . I'm not going anywhere."

After she left the room, the man smiled at the child on his lap. "Hey how about you sit at the table and let me call someone, is that okay?"

Nodding her head, Christine smiled. "Hotdog."

Amused, Gibbs placed his little cousin back on her bumper seat. "Don't tell your Daddy I ratted him out about the his secret hotdogs. I'd rather not hear him complain about it thank you very much." His eyes on on the child, Gibbs took his phone out of his pocket and called DiNozzo.

"_Agent DiNozzo_."

"Did you bring Flynn in yet?"

Clearing his throat, DiNozzo answered. "_No, Boss. We couldn't . . . He blew himself up."_

Concerned about Mae Gilbert, Gibbs barked in the phone. "What? What do you mean he blew himself up?"

Staring at the roof of the car, the younger agent sighed. "_He set up a booby trap with himself as the booby. He killed himself before we could arrest him. We don't know what he did with Mae Gilbert either. She wasn't in the house when he blew it up. He did leave us a phone that he said will help us find her though."_

"Were you or McGee in the house when he blew it up?"

"_Well, kind of. We both managed to get out in time."_

"Were either of you hurt?"

"_Not really, just a few bumps and scratches."_

"I'm at Agent Booth's house. Find Mae Gilbert . . . now!"

"_Yes, Boss."_

"If you need them, you can contact Booth's squints at the Jeffersonian to help you. Check with Abby and see what she says. I want Mae Gilbert found . . . now damn it!"

"_On it, Boss."_

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Reviews would be great. Thanks.

A/N: in the Southern part of the US, it isn't unusual for young cousins to call older cousins Uncle or Aunt to show respect.


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you for giving my story a chance.

I don't own Bones or NCIS.

Oooooooooooooo

Sitting on the bed, Booth stared at the floor at his feet. At first he'd felt numb after he'd been told that his grandfather had passed away. And now he was having a hard time feeling anything but pain. His hands resting on his thighs, he felt his eyes burning, a stabbing pain in his head. _I can't do this. I can't let him go. I can't . . . _

Brennan entered the bedroom and saw her man grieving for a loss he couldn't quite accept. Uncertain whether or not he would accept her help, she stood quietly near the dresser, debating with herself, wanting to do the right thing when it mattered the most.

She'd always known that she had difficulty understanding people. Most people were like a closed book to her and she was prone to misinterpret their emotional responses to most subjects, but Booth was different. She'd always been fascinated with him and had studied him for years. Because of her keen interest in him, she had learned over the years how to read him. She knew that she might not be able to read anyone else that she came into contact with, but with Booth, that wasn't a problem. She knew him. She knew his insecurities, she knew his past and she knew the battle he fought with himself every day because of the abuse he'd suffered as a child.

She also knew that Hank Booth had been extremely important to her husband. Hank had saved him and his brother from a horrifying childhood of abuse and neglect and Booth always felt that he could never repay his grandfather for the kindnesses done for him and his brother. Booth had agonized over Hank's decision to live in an assistant living home instead of with him and to this day he still felt that he'd let his grandfather down in an important way.

Sad that her husband had lost someone he adored, she walked over to the bed, down next to him and placed her arm around his. Leaning against him, she spoke quietly. "He loved you so much, Booth."

Unable to speak, Booth reached over and placed his hand on her arm. Silent, he continued to stare at the carpet at his feet, caught in a nightmare from which he couldn't wake up from.

"Hank asked me a few months ago to do him a final favor when he passed away. He wanted me to tell you a riddle that you liked as a child. He told me that he knew that his days were coming to an end and he wanted to make you smile one more time when you thought of him. It's very amusing." Pausing, Brennan squeezed his arm and continued, "Which month has 28 days? All of them of course . . . That's very funny, Booth because you are supposed to assume that the riddle is just asking about February but it's really . . ."

Extracting his arm from hers, Booth suddenly wrapped his arms around her, leaned his head against her neck and started to cry. Moving her arms so that she could embrace him, Brennan let her partner grieve, knowing that he needed the release and that she was the only one that he trusted to see that grief.

Fighting her own tears, Brennan assured him. "I love you, Booth. You're not alone."

ooooooooooooooooo

Pulling the phone that Rhys Flynn had given him from his jacket pocket, DiNozzo stared at the contacts list and found only one name listed. Gasping from the pain radiating from his left shoulder, he closed his eyes and counted to ten trying to ride out the pain.

"Maybe you should let me take you to the hospital. Your shoulder was already banged up from the explosion at the bank and I'm pretty sure throwing yourself out of the house didn't help." McGee glanced at his companion and back at the road and the traffic ahead of them. "We can give the phone to Abby and then go to the hospital afterward."

Ignoring his partner, DiNozzo tapped the phone icon next to Mae Gilbert's name, listened to it connect and heard it start to ring. After several rings, he ended the call. "We'll let Abby look at it. Maybe she can trace the phone on the other end. I don't know. We need to find Mae Gilbert soon. God knows what he did to her."

Soon McGee pulled up outside of NCIS headquarters, parked and turned to face DiNozzo. "You're not going to the hospital are you?"

The passenger door now open, the senior agent got out of the car, groaning and feeling a little sick. With a plastered smile on his face, he peered in the car before closing the door, "Why would I do that? I'm fine. Go park the car and meet me in the lab."

Slowly standing straight, DiNozzo slammed the door shut, rode out another wave of pain emanating from his shoulder and then hurried to the main entrance.

oooooooooooooo

Appalled at the sight of McGee as he entered the lab, Abby complained, "I'm pretty sure you should be in the hospital too."

Startled, McGee stopped and looked down at his body. "What do you mean? I'm fine."

Rolling her eyes, Abby turned back to her PC and continued to tap on her keyboard. "Right, the blood all over your hair and face means you're alright."

Shocked, McGee left the lab and entered the restroom near the elevator. Startled, McGee stared at his image in the mirror located above the sink and blanched. "Oh my God." Taking wet paper towels, he wiped the blood off of his face finding scratches and bruises that he hadn't been aware he had. Embarrassed that he'd walked through the Lobby like that, he then examined his hair and noticed that he had a several cuts on the back of his head. Using more damp paper towels he tried to remove some of the blood out of his hair. Resigned that he looked like a mess, he threw the paper towels away and left the restroom.

Entering the Lab again, he spoke to Abby while DiNozzo sat on a chair nearby. "It's just scratches."

Exasperated with her friends, Abby looked up and decided to ignore their bull headness. "This phone belonged to Rhys Flynn. The number he has set up is a phone that belongs to Mae Gilbert. Her phone is on and I can tell you where it is."

Quickly standing, DiNozzo exclaimed, "Good job, Abs."

Writing down the address, Abby handed the slip of paper to DiNozzo. "When you find her, promise me that you're going to the hospital to have your shoulder looked at, Tony."

DiNozzo took the paper from her and smiled his charm smile. "For you, Abby but only because I know you'll harass me until I do."

ooooooooooooooo

A little tired, Gibbs sat on the couch with his little cousin, watching a cartoon he'd found on cable. Suddenly he heard his phone ring. Reaching in to his pocket, he pulled the phone out and answered it. "Gibbs."

_"We found her, Boss. Flynn stashed Mae Gilbert at his repossessed house. I guess he was still trying to make some kind of weird ass statement."_

After grabbing the TV remote, Gibbs turned down the volume on the TV. "Good. Is she okay?"

_"Yeah, Boss. He'd chained her in the main bathroom and had left her food and water. She's pretty upset, but she's okay physically. Flynn had left her phone in the living room plugged into a battery charger. For some reason, the house still has the utilities on."_

"Alright, I'm still at Booth's house. If you need me you know where I am." Ending the call, Gibbs turned the volume back up on the TV. Glancing at Christine, he smiled at her. "Do you really like this?"

Nodding her head, Christine smiled at her cousin. "He funny."

Amused, Gibbs placed his hand on top of her head. "He is isn't he?" Removing his hand from her head, he stared at his phone, pulled up his contacts list and called his father.

"_Jackson Gibbs."_

Dreading the next few minutes, Gibbs cleared his throat. "Dad, I have some bad news."

ooooooooooooooo

Reviews would be appreciated. Thank you.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you for reading and reviewing my story. This is the last chapter.

I don't own Bones or NCIS.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Stoic, trying not to display his emotions for everyone to see, Jackson Gibbs sat on the pew, staring at his brother's coffin. The rich color of the oak coffin gleamed in the lights as it was wheeled towards the side door where the hearse awaited in the driveway.

"Come on Dad, we're supposed to ride with Seeley and his family." Leaning over his father, Jethro Gibbs placed his hand on the older man's arm and pulled gently. "Dad, did you hear me?"

Tearing his eyes from the retreating coffin, Jackson turned to stare at his son. "Yes, I'm not deaf." With the help of a cane, he stood and followed his son down the aisle and out of the church. The sun bright and fierce, Jackson raised his hand and shielded his eyes. "Jethro, I've said my good-bye. I'd like to go home now."

Torn, Gibbs glanced at his cousin as he stood near the limousine, talking to his wife. Patting his father's shoulder, he finally said, "Sure Dad, just let me tell Seeley that we're leaving."

Grabbing his son's arm, Jackson shook his head. "Don't . . . I've changed my mind. That boy doesn't have much family left and I forgot that for a moment. He and Jared deserve my respect so we'll go to the cemetery with them. We're family."

Relieved, Gibbs walked slowly beside his father as they approached Booth and his small family. "Booth, you sure you want me and Dad to ride with you? We can go in my car."

His eyes red and burning, Booth made himself turn to face his cousin and his great uncle. Feeling a stabbing pain in his chest, Booth stared at the face of his now deceased grandfather and forced himself to smile. "Yeah, you're family. Jared wants to drive over instead of coming with us. He has his reasons and I understand them. I'd be honored if . . . I'd be honored if you'd come with us."

Jackson, aware that his grand-nephew was struggling, reached out and clasped a hand on the younger man's arm. "You're not alone, Seeley. You got family and we're here for you."

Fighting to control his emotions, Booth swallowed and patted Jackson's hand. "Thanks." Holding Christine while Brennan entered the car, he then handed the child to her and helped his granduncle enter the car next. Once the older man was settled, Booth slid in to the car followed by Gibbs. Starring straight ahead, Booth swallowed convulsively and waited for the car to follow the hearse to his grandfather's final destination.

Ooooooooooooooo

Unable to move from where he was, Booth sat in the living room, staring at Brennan's display of ancient artifacts. He felt alone and isolated. He knew that Brennan was across the room near his daughter who was sitting on the floor playing with some Leggos, but over the last few hours he'd slowly withdrawn from everyone around him. Not responding to anyone, he simply sat and stared at the artifacts, his mind on autopilot, remembering the happy times in his grandfather's care.

Worried about Booth, Jackson had watched his grand-nephew withdraw from those around him and he'd finally decided to do something about it. Walking slowly over to where Booth was sitting, he sat down on the couch next to him.

Clearing his throat, Jackson placed his hand on Booth's knee. "Seeley, I know you're hurting right now and I wish I could help you but son, I want you to know that me and my son are part of your family now and if you need someone to talk to you can always call me or Jethro, you know that right?"

A tear coursing down his cheek, Booth turned to stare at his grand-uncle. The familiar face a shock, Booth turned back to look at the artifacts. "Thanks."

Rubbing his finger under his eye, Jackson frowned at his wet finger. "I wasted a lot of years on that stupid feud. Me and Hank should never have let it go on as long as it did. That stubborn Booth pride got in the way, I guess. Dad always said that the Booths were too stubborn for our own good. Of course when he said that he was usually fussing at me and Hank and he didn't include himself. My old man worried about his temper and he was always fussing at me and Hank about our muleheadedness and our tempers. He said we took after his father too much. I guess Dad's father was too strict and a humorless man. Dad on the other hand was a real joker. Sometimes I didn't think the man had a serious bone in his body. At least not around me and Hank."

Booth knew Jackson was hurting too. Turning, he forced himself to look at the all too familiar face. "Pops really didn't have much of a temper."

Shrugging his shoulder, Jackson smiled. "Oh he had a temper, he just knew how to control it most of the time. He adored our father and he tried to emulate him as much as possible. I think that's why Hank hated me for so many years. He blamed me for Dad's death because he thought I took away his hero. He forgot that Dad was my hero too . . . Still that's all done and we made up. He and I had a really nice time this last year and it was all because of you and Jethro. You and my son gave Hank and me another chance and I want to thank you for that."

His hand moving over to the older man's arm, Booth clasped it gently. "Pops really did love you, Uncle Jackson. He was really happy that you two were friends again. I was glad to help make that happen."

Leaning closer, Jackson spoke quietly. "Anytime you need me, you call me. I'm here for you Seeley." His gaze now on Brennan as she spoke to his son, Jackson smiled. "I love your wife, Seeley. She's real. She says what she means and I like that. You found a real keeper when you found her."

Booth smiled as she turned his gaze towards Brennan. "God, I know. I ask myself all the time, how'd I get so lucky. I'm pretty sure she's made me a better man."

Turning back toward his grand-nephew, Jackson nodded his head. "You remember that, Seeley. When you think you're alone, you remember that fine woman you have in your life. She'll help you through the rough times and you'll help her through hers. You two were made for each other. I knew that the first time I saw you two together."

"Your right, Uncle Jackson." Standing, he looked down at his uncle. "Thanks."

The fog lifted from his mind, Booth walked over to where Brennan was standing, slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "Hi, Bones."

Happy to see him out of his fog, Brennan turned towards him and kissed him. "Hi, Booth."

Staring into her crystal blue eyes, Booth smiled at her. "I love you Bones."

His sad eyes not matching his smile, Brennan reminded him. "I love you, Booth."

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Tired, Booth had had a long week. He and Brennan had finished up a case and he was looking forward to spending the weekend with just her and their child. He planned on setting up a small pool in the backyard for Christine to play in and later he thought he'd grill some steaks and corn and whatever Brennan decided she wanted. She'd suggested that he invite Jethro over for Sunday dinner and his cousin had agreed to come. With any luck, the weekend would be quiet and uneventful and they would all get the rest that they all needed and deserved.

Finishing up his last report, Booth had prepared to leave his office when his phone rang. "Booth."

"_Booth, this is Jethro, I thought you'd like to know, Dad died."_

Stunned, Booth stared at his desktop in disbelief. "Oh my God, Jethro, I'm so sorry."

"_Yeah, thanks. I'll call you when I get the funeral arrangements made."_

Pulling himself together, Booth spoke firmly to his cousin. "Jethro . . . Jethro if you need me you call me. You're not alone, Jethro. You have family and we're here for you. You're not alone."

"_I know, Seeley. Thanks."_

Oooooooooooo

Reviews would be wonderful. I hope you enjoyed my story and found it entertaining.


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